


part of it, too

by copperwings



Series: Drabble challenge prompts [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Feelings, Feline A/B/O dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pining, Yuuri is 29, ish, like think of a pride of lions, mentioned miscarriage, mpreg but it's not discussed in detail, victor is 34, yuri is 21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperwings/pseuds/copperwings
Summary: Yuri focuses on the eyes in front of him. “Talkto me.”“Yuuri, he,” Victor begins haltingly. “I come home, and he—he’s sitting on the couch, and—holding this little plushie toy we bought the first time when he was—expecting, and—and, he turns to me and says, ‘I lost our baby,’ and—it’s. It’s the fuckingthirdtime, and Ican’t—”Yuri stays where he is, forehead touching Victor’s and trying to make sense of Victor’s words.“Yuuri was pregnant?” Yuri asks, lowering both hands on Victor’s knees.Victor nods, pulling back and wiping his cheeks. “Third time,” he repeats sadly.





	part of it, too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heilari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heilari/gifts).



> I posted a drabble challenge list on tumblr, I'm posting the prompts I got here as well. This "drabble" turned out quite a bit longer than I expected.  
> The original prompt is [here](https://worldofcopperwings.tumblr.com/post/170011953809/2-i-lost-our-baby-victuurio-kill-me-with-the). The prompt was Victuurio and "I lost our baby."  
> -  
> So I know nothing about the canine A/B/O dynamics, which is why I went more in the direction of the feline world. I was just coming up with stuff on the fly as I went, so don't expect this to condone to any rules you are used to seeing in an A/B/O fic. Just a heads-up!

Victor is drunk when he appears behind Yuri’s door. Not in that slightly tipsy, world-loving way he usually is, though. No, he’s all-shutters-closed, fucked-up, barely-conscious drunk.

“Vitya, what the hell—?”

The words die on Yuri’s lips as he sees Victor’s eyes. They look empty, like someone took the light out of his soul.

Yuri wordlessly spreads the door open and allows Victor to stumble in, toe off his shoes and head to the kitchen. Yuri follows him, until he sees Victor is making a beeline for Yuri’s liquor cabinet.

Yuri stops him with a firm hand on Victor’s arm. “Oh, no you don’t,” he says.

Victor’s eyes flash, and a low growl forms deep his throat. Any other day it would be enough to make Yuri back off, but not now. Not when Victor’s eyes are dead and he can barely stand, and Yuri needs to find out what happened. He can’t do that if Victor passes out.

Yuri stares Victor down firmly and reveals a hint of teeth in a hiss. “Stop roaring. You can lecture me about pride dynamics when you’re sober,” Yuri says and drags Victor out of the kitchen. To his surprise, Victor looks almost submissive when he follows Yuri, hanging his head and allowing himself to be guided to the living room.

Yuri pulls Victor beside the couch and gives him a little push.

That’s all it takes for Victor to crumple down like a wet dishrag. His knees give and he sits down on the couch in a heap, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands.

Yuri doesn’t miss the wet splashes that start dotting his carpet, and he stands helplessly in front of Victor, switching his weight from one foot to the other. He’s at a loss for what to do. He’s seen Victor upset before, but not like this. Never like this.

Finally Yuri kneels in front of the couch and lowers a hand on Victor’s arm. It’s trembling under his touch, and Yuri leans in closer.

The smell of alcohol is overbearing and everything else is buried beneath the sharp tang. Yuri can’t make any sense of the alcohol-mixed mess of scents.

Well, he doesn’t need to smell Victor to see that he’s upset as fuck.

“Vitya,” Yuri says, looking up at the hands covering Victor’s face.

Victor inhales shakily and slides one hand to the side, revealing one red-rimmed eye. Tears are still streaming down his cheeks.

Yuri swallows. “Vitya, what’s going on?” Nothing in the world would upset Victor this much, unless it’s… Yuri’s stomach drops and his heart starts pounding. “ _Yuuri_ ,” Yuri breathes. “Is Yuuri okay?”

Victor shakes his head and makes a small, unhappy noise in between sobs.

“Vitya, look at me.” Yuri tries to muster the domineering tone of the head of the pride, but seeing as he’s talking to the head of the pride, it kind of falls short of its goal. Yuri pries Victor’s hands off his face and leans up, pressing their foreheads together. “Tell me what happened.”

Victor lets out a small hiccupping noise that under any other circumstances would be hilarious, but now it only makes Yuri frown. He focuses on the eyes in front of him. “ _Talk_ to me.”

“Yuuri, he,” Victor begins haltingly. “I come home, and he—he’s sitting on the couch, and—holding this little plushie toy we bought the first time when he was—expecting, and—and, he turns to me and says, ‘ _I lost our baby_ ,’ and—it’s. It’s the fucking _third_ time, and I _can’t_ —”

Yuri stays where he is, forehead touching Victor’s and trying to make sense of Victor’s words.

“Yuuri was pregnant?” Yuri asks, lowering both hands on Victor’s knees.

Victor nods, pulling back and wiping his cheeks. “Third time,” he repeats sadly.

Yuri blinks. He didn’t even know they were trying for a child.

“I can’t keep—doing this,” Victor mutters. “Every time, he—he looks a bit more dead on the inside, and—and it’s my fault.”

“C’mon, Vitya, it’s no one’s fault,” Yuri argues.

Victor shakes his head. “My fault,” he repeats stubbornly. “The doctor said. Something—about our genes. It doesn’t match. My fault.”

Yuri can’t think of anything to say, so he just leans down and rubs his cheek against Victor’s knee, trying to reassure and soothe Victor with his scent.

Victor’s shaking hand comes to rest on Yuri’s shoulder and finally travels up his neck, his wrist rubbing against Yuri’s cheek. Yuri closes his eyes for a moment and purrs, going for soothing even though it’s not exactly his forte. It seems to work, though. Victor’s breathing is calming down, the rate of inhales and exhales not sky-high anymore.

Eventually, Yuri manages to make Victor lie down on the couch. It’s too short so his legs dangle over the edge. Victor passes out almost instantly, as the alcohol and the emotions wreaking havoc inside him have stripped him of all energy.

Yuri doesn’t have the energy to deal with the other side of this story right now, so he just sends a message to Yuuri, letting him know Victor is crashing on Yuri’s couch.

Yuuri’s reply comes instantly.

_> >> Thank you Yura. Please tell him it’s not his fault._

Yuri sighs. It’s typical Yuuri to be worried about Victor when he’s also going through a tragedy. Yuri glances at Victor, sprawled on his living room couch and passed out cold. He looks smaller than usual and there is a crease of worry between his eyebrows.

Yuri absently leans down and smooths the crease away, then pulls his hand back. It’s not his place to go around and pet Victor’s forehead, or any part of Victor, really.

 

-

 

Next morning, Yuri is in the kitchen, browsing the morning paper on his tablet, when there is a weak groan coming from the living room.

Yuri drops the tablet on the table and pads to the doorway.

Victor looks like death. His eyes are red-rimmed from alcohol and crying, his lids puffy and his skin pale with a sickly undertone. His hair is a mess and his clothes wrinkled from sleeping in them.

Yuri leans against the doorway and bites back a remark about Victor’s appearance, because he may be an asshole at times but even he’s not that much of an asshole.

Victor is reaching for the bottle of water Yuri left on the coffee table for him.

“Morning,” Yuri says.

Victor looks up and winces like the movement hurts him. “Hey. Sorry for barging in here like that.”

Yuri shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. How are you feeling?”

He doesn’t need to ask. He can see how Victor is feeling.

Victor sighs. “I’ve been better.” He finally manages to grasp the water bottle. He unscrews the cap off and tilts his head back, drinking the entire bottle in several long gulps.

Yuri nods back toward the kitchen. “You want coffee or tea? Or maybe a bowl of cereal?”

Victor shakes his head. “I could take a bowl of painkillers, though,” he mutters.

“In the bathroom cabinet,” Yuri says. “Help yourself.”

He goes back to his breakfast. Victor follows him into the kitchen in a moment. He’s washed his face and he smells more of toothpaste and less of day-old booze. Yuri leans his face up and waits until Victor comes over and quickly presses their foreheads together by way of greeting. Victor’s own scent is stronger now, not veiled in a blanket of alcohol.

Victor slumps down in the seat across from Yuri. “Thanks for letting me crash here,” Victor says. “I should probably call Yuuri, though.” There is pain in his voice.

“Yuuri knows where you are,” Yuri says, sipping his coffee. “He says to stop blaming yourself.”

Victor winces at the words. “I, um.” His eyes wander over the kitchen like he’s never seen it before. “I’m vaguely aware of telling you about it last night, but what exactly did I say?”

“Oh.” Yuri lowers the coffee mug on the table. It figures. Yuri’s never seen Victor that wasted before; it makes sense he doesn’t remember much. “You, um, you said Yuuri lost your baby. And, uh, that it was the third time. Also something about your genes not matching.”

Victor nods slowly and turns his eyes to Yuri. There is a shadow in his eyes that looks like hopelessness. “That’s what the doctor said after the second time. That it is unlikely we would produce viable offspring.”

Yuri grimaces. “I’m sorry.”

Victor lets out a shaky exhale. “Yeah. Well Yuuri wanted to try one more time, on the off chance that—” He cuts himself off and swallows. When he talks again his voice is thick. “No more. I can’t take it anymore. We’ll adopt or something. I can’t see Yuuri like that, ever again.” Victor’s voice is that of a man whose heart has been shattered to pieces one time too many.

Yuri reaches out across the table, lays his hand on the table with the inside of his wrist facing up. Victor absently lowers his hand on it. Yuri purrs, a low rumble, just enough to soothe Victor.

“If there’s anything I can do, just, you know,” Yuri says. The words seem to hang in the air between them, useless.

“Thanks,” Victor replies.

 

-

 

A few months later, Yuri opens his door to find himself face to face with both Yuuri and Victor. He’s seen them on and off, but aside from brief greeting touches and few exchanged words, they haven’t really talked. Yuri guesses it makes sense that Victor and Yuuri have kept to themselves. After all, they are getting over something Yuri didn’t even know they were battling before Victor came barging in drunk as hell.

“Hey,” Yuri says, wrinkling his brow. “What brings you here?”

They exchange a glance. “We were in the neighborhood,” Yuuri says lightly.

They both rub their cheek against Yuri’s in passing, and it’s more intimate than the usual quick touch of foreheads. Baffled, Yuri closes the door after them and watches as Victor takes Yuuri’s coat and hangs it off the hook. The apartment is suddenly filled with Yuuri’s scent; different than Victor’s dominant smell or Yuri’s own, more muted scent. Yuuri smells sweet where Victor is strong tea and ice. Victor’s scent is the most unusual combination, and Yuri finds himself once again inhaling it deep. Mixed with Yuuri’s scent it’s like the perfect mixture of everything Yuri likes. It’s soothing, familiar.

“You look like you’re on a mission,” Yuri remarks as Victor and Yuuri sit at the kitchen table and Yuri’s turning over the cupboards to find something to put on the table. He comes out empty-handed. “Coffee?”

They shake their heads and the movement looks so synchronized that they must have practiced it together. Yuri grins.

“Yura, sit,” Victor finally says when Yuri leans against the counter, fidgeting.

Yuri sits down across the table.

Victor and Yuuri glance at each other.

“We, um, have a suggestion for you. A proposition,” Yuuri says.

“Okay?” Yuri replies. He picks a few breadcrumbs off the table with his fingertip.

“We’d want you to father a child. For me. Um, for us.” Yuuri makes a vague circle with his finger, and Yuri doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be included in that but it sure looks like it.

Yuri inhales slowly. He expected that they wanted him to water their plants while they visit Japan or help paint the fence or something, but not this. Definitely not this.

“No one has to know, unless you want to,” Victor says. “This. It’s not a command,” he clarifies. “We’re _asking_.”

Yuri brushes the breadcrumbs on the floor. “Um. Sure, I guess?”

 

-

 

Yuuri is absolutely stunning when he’s expecting. Yuri kind of thought he would be gross and sweaty especially in the heat of the summer, but he’s just _glowing_.

Yuri blinks and looks away. Everyone else thinks the child is Victor’s. No one at the baby shower has the vaguest idea that it was Yuri who leaned over, bit the skin between Yuuri’s shoulder blades and drove into him, fervent, while Victor alternated between praising and kissing both of them, open-mouthed and deep. Victor wasn’t even part of the act itself, but somehow he was everywhere, touching Yuri’s forehead to his, mumbling words of praise and pressing against Yuri’s wrists and the pulse point of his neck.

Yuri tries not to think about that night too much, because it makes his chest ache in a way he doesn’t care to start unraveling.

It’s kind of hard to _not_ think about that night right now, when the result is currently the focus of everyone’s attention and right there in front of him.

Yuri sips his coffee and wanders over to the gift table. He idly browses through a picture book with brightly colored images and reinforced edges for when the baby will decide that a book makes for a wonderful chewing toy. He feels kind of hollow looking at the pictures of smiling bees and cows and whatnot.

He hasn’t seen Victor and Yuuri all that much. They tried sending him updates on the pregnancy but gave up when Yuri didn’t reply. It felt like intruding into something that was none of his business. It also added to that weird sensation in his chest, so he chose to ignore the updates until they stopped coming.

Victor’s scent flowing into his nose warns Yuri of Victor’s approach.

“Hey,” Victor says. His eyes look sad, even though he should be happy. After all, his baby is due any week now.

Well, technically it’s not Victor’s baby, but no one knows that.

“Hey,” Yuri manages, lowering the picture book, and then hides his grimace behind the brim of his coffee mug.

Victor leans in to touch his forehead to Yuri’s, and Yuri returns the gesture because he doesn’t really have an option. To not return Victor’s greeting would be seen as an act of rebellion. Not that Victor would actually punish him. No, he would just look at Yuri sadly and sigh, like he does every time he sees Yuri nowadays. He’s probably bitter that he’s going to be raising Yuri’s kid as his own.

 _Well, you asked for it,_ Yuri thinks.

“Can I talk to you for a moment? Or, um, _we_.” Victor motions to Yuuri who is following the exchange from a distance. “Can we talk to you for a moment?”

The small hiss Yuri lets out is an involuntary reaction to a situation he doesn’t want to be in, but he falls quiet when Victor runs the inside of his wrist lightly over Yuri’s cheek, reassuring.

Yuri follows the happy couple into their bedroom and waits while Victor closes the door, effectively shutting the chattering noises of the baby shower guests outside.

Yuuri sits down on the bed and rubs his lower back while Victor hovers by the door. Yuri stands between them, his sock-clad toes digging into the ridiculously fluffy carpet on the floor.

There’s already a crib beside the bed, loaded with plushies and pacifiers and tiny pieces of clothing. Yuri’s gaze locks on the abundance of baby-related items and then slides down to the floor. His feet almost disappear into the gray carpet. Yuri wiggles his toes and watches the carpet pile move like grass around them.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Yuri asks his toes. The room smells like baby powder. The scent makes him want to gag.

“Yura,” Yuuri says, and Yuri looks up like it’s a commanding roar, only it’s not. It’s _Yuuri_ , who holds no power to command Yuri to do anything. Yuri still looks at Yuuri, sitting on the bed and gently stroking a hand over his belly. Yuuri stares back at him, his eyes soft. “Looks like someone is awake,” Yuuri says, releasing Yuri from his gaze to look down. “You want to feel her move?”

 _No_ , Yuri wants to say.

 _Yes_ , he wants to scream.

“It’s a girl?” he asks instead. His voice comes out rough and hoarse.

Yuuri and Victor exchange a glance.

“We didn’t want to tell anyone lest we drown in a sea of pink presents, but you deserve to know,” Victor says.

“Please, Yura,” Yuuri says, motioning him closer. “She’s your daughter.”

 _No, she isn’t_ , Yuri doesn’t say. Instead, he steps closer as if through fog, and the next moment he finds himself kneeling on the floor beside the bed, while Yuuri holds his hand by the wrist and guides it.

Yuri feels it under his fingertips; a tiny shift underneath the loose shirt Yuuri is wearing. It’s kind of disgusting, because it’s almost like an alien cocoon waiting to burst, but it’s also something else. Something weirdly wonderful, some unnamed emotion that wraps itself around Yuri’s heart and complicates the ache there tenfold.

From up close, he can smell the change in the scent lingering around Yuuri. He still smells sweet, like cherry blossoms and fresh water, but now there is something new mixed into it. Yuri swallows. It’s a familiar scent; steel and earth. Very familiar, because it’s his _own_. It’s subtle, and no one would notice it aside from someone who knew what to look for, but it’s _there_.

Yuri is aware of his vision blurring slightly, and he blinks, looking up at Yuuri. Yuuri’s eyes are warm and he raises his free hand, rubs the inside of his wrist on Yuri’s cheek, making the scent even more prominent. Yuuri purrs, low and soothing, and Yuri relaxes into the touch.

Suddenly Victor is there, kneeling behind Yuri and hugging him. Victor rubs his cheek against Yuri’s from behind, and the mixture of scents, purrs and attention is almost suffocating.

“Yura, we want to announce her as yours,” Yuuri says, his wrist sliding over Yuri’s lips. Yuri presses his lips against the pulse point without thinking, his eyes locked onto Yuuri’s. Yuuri cups his hand under Yuri’s chin.

“We want you to be there to raise her as well,” Victor whispers right into Yuri’s ear. “That is, if you want that.”

“It’s your family,” Yuri tries weakly. “You guys, and the kid.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “No. It’s _our_ family. You’re part of it too.”

Yuri’s head is spinning as he kneels beside Yuuri and Victor’s bed. It’s the same bed he was in during that one night he tries not to think about, and Yuri is painfully aware of that. He has one hand against Yuuri’s stomach and the other fisted in Victor’s hair as Victor kneels behind him. Yuri can’t remember how that happened; how did his hand find its way into Victor’s hair? Victor’s arm is wound tightly around Yuri. Yuri can feel the soothing rumble of his purrs against his back. Victor’s free hand seeks Yuuri’s, and it feels like a circle is completed.

 _Our family_ , Yuri thinks, closing his eyes. It has a nice ring to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr.](https://worldofcopperwings.tumblr.com/)  
> -  
> Hope you enjoyed this dose of non-traditional whatever-this-was. :'D  
> Leave a comment and let me know what you think! :)


End file.
